My Life For Hire
by Lothiriel daughter of Neiriel
Summary: Harleen Quinzel is thrust into the world of the Joker. her inevitable transformation into Harley Quinn will stun all, but mostly the Joker himself!


**My Life For Hire**

**Chapter One**

T H E D O W N F A L L O F U S A L L

_Disclaimer__: I do not own Batman, the Joker, Harley Quinn, the Dark Knight, or anything at all related to them for that matter._

**Some Notes-** (feel free to skip over them of course. :] )

I'm going for a 'Nolanized' version of Harley Quinn and her story of losing her mind. Now, of course it won't be perfectly Nolanesque because but if, while you're reading, you come across something that could be improved, then please feel free to review with your _nice_ constructed criticism (I'm offended easily, sorry). Basically, what I'm doing is rebuilding Harley's personality to fit into Nolanverse because we all know how she is originally depicted wouldn't actually fit into current Gotham. Well this is my **forth **rewrite of the first chapter (I found it quite difficult to begin it the way I had envisioned) so hopefully this is the winner. Enjoy!

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This city will be the downfall of us all. At one point of another evil will inevitably win the war against good, it's only a matter of time. The Batman actually thinks he can help Gotham off it's bloodied knees so it can stand tall and proud for once. But he can't. no one can. I understand this, why won't anyone else? Why can't they just give in to what they already know, their false sense of security disgusts me. They should all just accept that they're delusional and face _reality_.

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My name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel, psychiatrist at Gotham's notorious Arkham Asylum. I've been asked many times what made me decide to come to Arkham rather than another, more renowned mental hospital. My answer: the minds, yes the minds that reside in this particular asylum are some of the most disgustingly interesting ones that anyone could ever stumble upon (because it's certainly not the pay that attracts me here, it's far from what I should be receiving with my credentials I worked too long and too hard for). But that's exactly why I'm needed here, because only one out of ten are actually cured within these depressing walls and one out of every three people employed at any powerful establishment in Gotham are corrupted. Me being one of the few good people left, I figure they need me here.

I walked down the yellowing white halls of Arkham returning from a very successful session with my newest patient, Thomas Schiff, a paranoid schizophrenic recently brought into the asylum. He'd been severely scarred by the actions the late Harvey Dent had taken to try to force information about the Joker from the poor man. Today I'd helped him to get over a huge milestone concerning those particular unhappy memories. I'd decided to wait to get into the deeper things that troubled Thomas till we got through what lie just beneath the surface. A slightly unconventional method, but it had worked!

I noticed the hallway was empty except of me ant the sound of my heels echoing off the floor, so I let loose. Shoving my hands into the side pockets of the standard issue whit psychiatrist's coat and added a slight skip to my step. Before I could get too carried away and let down my golden hair from my too-tight bun that I actually despised (I keep it for professional appearances only), I heard quick footsteps coming from the far end of the hallway towards me. As the steps drew nearer, and showed no signs of letting up, I automatically slowed my pace and removed my the skip from my step, I took my hands out from my pockets and straightened out my coat just as Dr. Jeremiah Arkham turned the corner into the hall running. I stopped altogether when I gat a better view of the expression he wore. He was very worried and in a rush, that much was obvious to anyone, but he also showed signs of fear, confusion, and also a hint of relief.

"Dr. Quinzel! Thank God!" he yelled, out of breath. "Come with me, there's been an incident in one of the examination rooms in maximum security!"

I ran after Dr. Arkham in the direction of the maximum security wing, fumbling with my hand in my pocket searching for the sedative I always carry with me at work in case of an emergency. My fingers came into contact of the cold syringe, I still had it. You never know what might be happening in maximum, so it's better to be careful and take the extra precautions. We reached the half-rusted gates that separate maximum security from the rest of the facility, the guard immediately buzzed us through. It'd been the first time I'd been in this particular part of the asylum and immediately I noticed drastic differences. The walls suddenly changed from yellowing white to exposed brick that'd been painted a more fitting dull, creamy grey to match the melancholy atmosphere. The doors to the cells were made of reinforced steel with only a small window on the upper left hand corner. The cracked concrete floors had ominous stains everywhere, it was a creepy place. We turned the corner and ran down another hall where the examination rooms undoubtedly were for I was already able to hear some kind of disturbing ruckus. I hastened my pace.

I arrived at the examination room fist, it wasn't hard to pick door number three because it was the only one emanating the angry yells. Dr. Arkham ran up behind me and I stepped aside to allow him to enter the code to open the door. When we burst in, the scene was nothing how I'd imagined it to be. First of all, there was a blood streak across the green and grey wall and lying underneath it was an unconscious guard with a sedative syringe still stuck in his thigh. Second, the psychiatrist's supplies were strewn everywhere, pens and notes littered the floor. Thirdly, and most surprisingly, near the back wall it was _not_ patient strangling doctor, it was _Dr. Maxwell _strangling none other than _the Joker_! Jim Maxwell had is fat hands around the Joker's neck while screaming incoherently and his face getting redder by the moment. The Joker on the other hand lie there, purple faced and eyes tightly shut- in laughter. The man was being strangled, yet he still found some way to let muffled, oxygen less laughter escape his mutilated lips.

I was the first to react after the initial shock of what was happening wore off, I ran up to the two and tried to pull Dr. Maxwell off the Joker but my petite build and height of five foot five was no match for is doughy physique and height of six foot two. I tried, next, to knee Jim in the gut which actually seemed to have worked. Dr. Maxwell took his hands off the Joker an turned to me. Something was wrong though, Jim's usually squinty eyes were wide, fury burning in them like wildfires. He swung his fist and it connected with the entire right side of my face, I hit the floor clutching my throbbing face becoming more painful with each pulse. Now it was personal! Maxwell returned his attention to the Joker and began the choke him once again. I got up and using my gymnast's legs to my advantage, I lunged at Jim. This time my actions had much more satisfying results. Dr. Maxwell rolled off the Joker and onto the floor, I followed shortly after him landing of the ground in between him and the Joker. Taking the moment of surprise to my advantage, I pulled the sedative out from my pocked and stuck it in Jim's arm, he was out almost instantly.

I scanned the room to see what the hell Dr. Arkham had been doing, he was attending to the guard who was just now coming around.

Nice! How manly of you!

I noticed a small movement out of the corner of my eye, the Joker had decided to make his move. He was scuffling toward Dr. Arkham who's back was momentarily turned. that's when I noticed the key ring hanging out of his pocket which undoubtedly held Arkham Asylum's skeleton key, the one used for when the code locks were malfunctioning. I grabbed a pair of handcuffs that lie nearby on the floor, the Joker had probably gotten out of them at some point, and quickly cuffed one around his ankle and pulled. The Joker hit the floor with an audibly painful thump and I slapped the other cuff around his other ankle.

Dr. Arkham looked over his shoulder so see what the loud noise had been, I looked up at him in rage. "You couldn't have _possibly_ helped me out with these two?!"

His eyes went wide as he studied me picking myself up off the floor and dust off my pants and coat. then they darted from the Joker pulling his face off the floor to Dr. Maxwell and to my swelling cheek. "Oh! Uh… Harleen, I-I'm so sorry. I was just checking-" My expression cut him off fro elaborating any further. "I'll… I'll go get some orderlies." I smiled.

Once he was out of sight I picked up a chair and motioned for the Joker to sit. Apparently he found sitting up against the wall more comfortable so I sat in the chair instead. I traced the area underneath my right eye, it had already swelled considerably and probably looked viciously purple. That's when I noticed he was laughing, the most insane sound I'd heard anyone make.

"_What_ are you laughing at?"

His head snapped up and the curtain of faded green hair fell away revealing his face. I could instantly feel the weight of his eyes bore into my own. They were dark brown, the color of burning wood, and something about them practically screamed intelligence and a mind hard at work. It was the most intense stare anyone could be fortunate to experience. I was completely entranced. His unpainted face was a bit unsettling in the fact that I could see every detail of the gruesome scars that made up his infamous smile. Though oddly, it wasn't exactly terrifying.

He motioned to his right eye, waking me from my stupor, it was swollen and had turned purple. "We match," he said simply.

"Oh," I motioned to my neck. "Not quite, I'm missing those." I was referring to the bruises already forming in the shape of fat hands around his neck.

"_Well…_" he glanced away and swipe his tongue across his bottom lip. His eyes darted back to mine. "We could fix that… now couldn't we?"

I ignored that. "So, tell me what happened here. A result of one of your _games_ I'm assuming?"

"_Game?_" he faked a hut tone at my accusation. Then he tilted his head forward and glared up at me. "How'd ya know?" his voice had deepened.

"Lucky guess," I said quickly.

Someone cleared their throat, it was neither me nor the Joker, so I looked up to see Dr. Arkham standing in the doorway with two orderlies.

"Harleen, a word please?" I followed Dr. Arkham into the hall. He stared at me a while before he finally spoke, releasing the tension from the air. "What was that?"

"I don't know, it- it was only a guess. I-"

"No, no Harleen. It's alright. It just made me think. I've decided to give you his case… that is if you'd like to take him on of course."

I was confused, and I'm sure it showed. "Oh-"

He cut me off yet again. "Look, obviously we can't have Dr. Maxwell continue to treat him, in fact he may need treatment himself come to think of it, anyway, you've displayed you can handle the Joker. I like your methods Quinzel, a bit unconventional maybe, but _unexpected_," he looked down at me with hopeful eyes. "What do your say?"

"I say… great!"

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**A/N:** Okay, so I'm completely terrified that this sucked! By the way, tell me if I should change the title, please. Thank you! And please REVIEW, it only takes a minute out of your life. J


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